


Jackpot!

by jonsasnow



Series: Tumblr Prompts [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Tumblr Prompts, ajhfdskjfhskfh, i miss writing, jon and sansa are married bbys, jonsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonsasnow/pseuds/jonsasnow
Summary: “You’re - you’re so beautiful,” Jon slurs as he reaches his hand out for her. “I’m serious. Who are you? Are you a model? Are you here to make patients feel better?”Or the one where Jon goes in for surgery, is so high on anaesthesia he doesn't remember his own wife and Sansa is amused





	Jackpot!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi hi!
> 
> I dont know what this is but I saw a thing on tumblr and thought it was so cute that I had to write it out for Jonsa. Anyway, it's also another one of mine without much plot so I hope you like it. 
> 
> Also, disclaimer, I don't know anything about medicine. I have no idea if he would be this out of it after surgery so yes hahaha
> 
> Thanks as always for reading!

It’s a standard procedure appendectomy. The doctors said it should only take a couple of hours if there are no complications, and as Jon is a healthy young man, there shouldn’t be any complications. Sansa knows this. She is a naturally logical person; she understands there really is nothing to be worried about -- but all the same, she frets at the hem of her cardigan as she waits. Her husband is being cut open; why _shouldn’t_ she worry? 

Sansa pulls her phone from her purse. 

_**Sansa:** I’m crazy, right?_

**_Jeyne:_ ** _Yes generally speaking but why exactly today?_

**_Sansa:_ ** _It’s Jon’s appendectomy today!!!!!!_

_**Jeyne:** Oh okay yeah you’re crazy _

_**Sansa:** That’s not being a supportive friend_

_**Jeyne:** It’s 8 in the morning. I will be supportive when I’m awake_

_He’ll be fine_

_Stop worrying_

_Go away_

_Bye_

It’s almost two hours to the dot when the doctor reemerges to tell her the surgery was a success. The weight on her shoulders lift instantaneously and Sansa exhales out a relieved breath. 

“Can I see him?” 

The doctor nods. “He’s not yet awake but he should be up shortly.” 

She follows him to the room. It’s bare with a lone painting of a sunflower on one wall and windows on the other side. Jon is unconscious on the bed, tubes sticking out of him, and his EKG monitor beeps rhythmically, a reassurance that her husband is indeed alive and well. 

Sansa sits down in the lone armchair next to his cot and she takes him all in, from the curl of his dark hair at the nape of his neck to the bridge of his nose. She watches as his chest rises and falls, slipping her hand into his just so she could feel the heat of his body and the coarse hardness of his hand from years of manual labour. Everything about him she had always known she loved but watching him so helpless in the bed like this makes her appreciate him in a new light. 

The doctor comes in to check on Jon a while later, flicking through his chart and making small talk with Sansa as he does so.

“How long have you two been married?”

“Oh,” Sansa mulls this over. “Around four years now?” But they’ve known each other their whole lives. He was there when Sansa broke her arm and he was there when Joffrey cheated on her, letting her cry fat ugly tears into his shirt. He was _always_ there until one day, he wasn’t when he moved to Dublin for university. She didn’t know how integral he had been in her life, never appreciated him in the way she should’ve, until months turned into years and Sansa could never quite fill the space he had left behind. 

When they did finally reunite, it was at Arya’s university graduation party and Sansa remembers distinctly the sudden whoosh in her stomach the moment Jon walked through the door. The same dark curly hair, the same sombre eyes, but he was broader, more sure of himself and when he smiled in greeting at her sister, she fell.

Jon kissed her for the first time two months later when he finally moved back to town and Robb forced them all out to celebrate. They found themselves on the second floor of the club, an abandoned room save for the two toilets situated at the back wall. He caught up with her as she was heading downstairs, took her hand in his, the other reaching up to cup her cheek, and crowded her up against the wall. “I thought five years was enough time,” he murmured. “I thought I could get over you if I lived in a different country.” He exhaled softly. “Tell me if this isn’t what you want…” A faint smile pulled at her lips and that was all the welcome Jon needed before his lips captured hers in a bruising, searing, messy, _perfect_ kiss. 

“Yeah,” she shakes her head, returning back to the present, and smiles at the doctor. “We got married four years ago.” 

“Ah,” the doctor nods, not caring either way, she imagines. “Your husband’s vitals look good. He should be --” 

At that moment, Jon groans and both their eyes snap to the man on the hospital cot. He groans again like he can’t get used to the sound of his own voice and slowly opens his eyes. First, he squints under the harsh glare of the overhead light but as his eyes adjust, he looks towards the doctor. 

“Mr Snow, can you hear me?” Jon nods. “You are in the hospital. You just had an open surgery appendectomy,” the doctor says, and Jon immediately glances down at his body in panic as if he’s still cut open. “You are okay now, Mr Snow,” the doctor continues. “As I was telling your wife, your vitals are fine and there were no complications during surgery.”

But Jon had stopped listening, as it was in that moment, he noticed Sansa for the first time. His mouth forms a big ‘oh’. 

“Wh-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Who are _you_?” 

Sansa feels panic and worry swirling chaotically in her stomach. She looks to the doctor and he smiles in reassurance. “It’s just the anesthesia. He’s a little disoriented now. There’s no need to worry.” 

“You’re - you’re so beautiful,” Jon slurs as he reaches his hand out for her. “I’m _serious_. Who are you? Are you a model? Are you here to make patients feel better?” The questions come one right after another and each word bleeds into the next, so Sansa has to lean forward to hear him, which makes the EKG monitor suddenly start to increase in speed. She has to laugh. It’s hard not to at this point. 

“Jon,” she takes his outstretched hand. “I’m Sansa. I’m your wife.”

The monitor spikes. “WHAT?” He tries to sit up but the doctor, who has been grinning bemusedly this whole time, presses gently down on his shoulders. Jon shakes his head. “No way, no way. You can’t be my wife! How -”

“We married four years ago,” Sansa says slowly. “Remember? In my parent’s backyard? Both of our families were there. Your niece was the ringbearer.”

“No, but look at you!” Jon shakes his head again. “You’re stunning. How did this even happen!” 

Sansa giggles. “Jon, you’re quite stunning yourself, you know?” The most adorable flush spreads across his cheeks and she laughs. “ _And_ you’re a firefighter. That’s every girl’s dream.”

“Really?” he asks, wide-eyed. “ _I’m_ your dream?” 

“You sure are.”

“Wow,” Jon breathes out. “I have a wife. That looks like _you_. And I’m hot? Wow, I hit the jackpot!” 

It takes fifteen minutes to calm Jon down long enough for him to go back to sleep, and by the time he does, Sansa’s alone again, a mischievous smile on her lips. She’s _never_ going to let him live this down. 


End file.
